


Uneventful

by Marks



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Epic Friendship, First years as second years, Gen, Role Reversal, SportsFest, Tsukishima Gets Loud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 17:24:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15734028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: Second-year is less eventful than first-year for Kei, which suits him fine. He’s not really big on events. But there’s still school and volleyball and Yamaguchi, and all of that suits Kei fine, too. He’s a happier person when things are familiar, for certain values of happier, and school really does seem about the same.Volleyball and Yamaguchi, though – well, while things are less eventful for Kei, he’s not sure the same is true for Yamaguchi.





	Uneventful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brella/gifts).



> happy haikyuu day! and i just really liked that epic friendship tag. :D but it's true, isn't it?
> 
> Originally written for SportsFest 2018, Bonus Round 4: Images. Prompt is from Ping-Pong: The Animation and can be found [here](https://sportsfest.dreamwidth.org/11674.html?thread=2138010#cmt2138010). Image Description from brella:  
>  _Two caps of a young, smiling boy holding a ping-pong paddle._  
>  "Think I can be like you, Peco?"  
> "I want to be like you. Like you!"

Second-year is less eventful than first-year for Kei, which suits him fine. He’s not really big on events. But there’s still school and volleyball and Yamaguchi, and all of that suits Kei fine, too. He’s a happier person when things are familiar, for certain values of happier, and school really does seem about the same.

Volleyball and Yamaguchi, though – well, while things are less eventful for _Kei_ , he’s not sure the same is true for Yamaguchi. 

He remembers the day Coach Ukai told them all that they’d try Yamaguchi out in the starting rotation, at least for a few games, but no promises that it would be a permanent thing. They had sidelined third-years who could play and their trip to nationals had attracted a fair amount of talented first-years, too. Still, Yamaguchi had been over the moon, grinning huge and turning to meet Kei’s eyes as soon as the words were out of Ukai’s mouth. Kei had smiled back, just a little one, and nodded. 

What he wanted was to beam back, to brag to all the new first-years about his best friend, the one who worked so hard and who deserved a place on the court more than any of those snot-nosed twerps with their dreams of upending the starting line. It doesn’t matter that Kei had done exactly that last year, Kageyama and Hinata, too; that’s besides the point. Plus, Yamaguchi is taller than all of them, anyway.

A couple of games later, Ukai had swapped Yamaguchi out for Narita. It’s nothing that he’d done, Kei knows this, it’s just a tactical thing, a difference in their style of play, but Yamaguchi takes it to heart and when he’s subbed in to pinch serve, he messes up. What’s worse is Kinoshita and one of the first-years both put points on the board when they get to play. After, Kei wants to tell him all the things that Yamaguchi does _right_ , how hard he works and how much he inspires Kei every day, in all things. 

Instead, he drops a towel on top of Yamaguchi’s head and mutters, “Don’t mind.” Yamaguchi’s shoulders slump and he doesn’t say anything back.

After that, Yamaguchi goes missing more often. He comes to practice, but he doesn’t go all out. He lets the first years volunteer over him when Nishinoya asks someone to help receive serves. He goes right home at the scheduled time, even when Kei’s sticking around, and there’s an uncomfortable tightness all across his back that makes Kei’s heart clench. When Kei goes to Shimada Mart to pick up an order for his mother, Shimada asks him how Yamaguchi is because he hasn’t stopped by to practice in weeks. 

It’s all very disconcerting. One night while they're walking home, shoulders brushing together, Kei tentatively asks Yamaguchi how he’s doing. He just gets an overly bright, “Fine, Tsukki!” in reply.

Kei wants to grab him by his shoulders under the moonlight, wants to shout about how he’s so talented, how he has so much potential, how Kei’s so proud of him and shouldn’t ever forget that.

But Kei just says, “Okay,” and walks Yamaguchi all the way to his house, instead of taking his usual turn off.

When they start to play in for Spring High, it takes a few matches, but sure enough, Ukai thinks it’s Yamaguchi’s time to play again. And even though he hasn’t been practicing as hard as he used to, Yamaguchi practiced so hard before that his body remembers, and muscle memory does the job for him. He plays so well, his serves land, he chokes off Shiratorizawa’s Goshiki, and scores points when he spikes. It’s awesome being on the sidelines when Yamaguchi’s up front, Kei watching as Kageyama sets and lets Yamaguchi fly. Kei finds his breath catching while everyone else yells and cheers, just because his voice is stuck in his throat.

They win the match, and Kei is elated; he even allows it when Hinata throws his short little arms around his waist and hugs Kei. After a minute, he has to pry him off and hand him off to Kageyama, who looks about as thrilled at having a koala Hinata as Kei had. Yamaguchi’s nowhere to be found. Normally, Kei would let Yamaguchi come to him; he always had before, but even though Kei’s year has been uneventful, Yamaguchi’s hasn’t been.

Kei steels himself and goes searching. He finds Yamaguchi in the first place he checks, hunched over the bathroom sink, his face wet from the tap or maybe something else.

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi says, surprised. He stands up straight, his hands balled up in fists at his side, his whole body a too-tense violin string that might break if it were plucked. Then he laughs, a little hysterically. “I guess I can forget about playing ever again. Did you see when my serve hit the net?” Yamaguchi shakes his head. “Of course you did! You notice everything, you already know how terrible I am –”

The string that snaps isn’t Yamaguchi’s.

“Are you kidding?” Kei shouts, sounding a little hysterical himself. “Stop talking about yourself like that!” His voice grows louder with every word. “Don’t you know how well you played? You’re so dumb, Yamaguchi!”

Yamaguchi blinks.

“Don't you know that everyone recognizes your hard work? Don’t you know that _I_ do?” He steps inside the bathroom, letting the door swing shut behind him. “You’re great! You deserve all the good things! So stop talking about my best friend like that!”

After, Kei’s breathing is ragged and, when he catches a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror, he looks completely wrung out. They stand there in the bathroom together, staring at each other, the only sound the little gulps of air Kei takes as he tries to settle down.

“Is that what I sound like when I do this to you?” Yamaguchi asks, after an age. He sounds equal parts awed and horrified. Kei knows the feeling.

Kei covers his eyes with his hand and laughs, hard. “Yeah,” he says, pulling his hand down to look at Yamaguchi again. “Kinda.”

“Sorry, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi says, and that’s a relief because he sounds like his old self.

“It’s okay,” Kei says, and that’s a relief because it’s different.


End file.
